by Shawn Sarles
Copyright
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2018 by Shawn Sarles
Foreword copyright © 2018 by James Patterson
Cover design by Stephanie Yang
Cover copyright © 2018 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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ISBN 978-0-316-51507-8
E3-20180607-JV-PC
Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
FOREWORD
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
BEWARE WHEN THE FAIR COMES TO TOWN
SEVEN
RED RAVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THE MOUNTAIN PEOPLE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JIMMY PATTERSON BOOKS FOR YOUNG ADULT READERS
To Vera Pitney
English Teacher Extraordinaire,
Who Made Me Believe I Really Could Write
FOREWORD
As a storyteller, telling scary stories around the fire was always my favorite part of a camping trip: listening to the fire crackle, holding a flashlight up to my face, whispering ghost stories and urban legends… and making everyone too terrified to crawl into their dark tents.
Campfire by Shawn Sarles took me right back to those hair-raising moments. The idea that scary stories can come to life—that the stuff of nightmares might be real—is so terrifying, I guarantee it’ll give you goose bumps.
—James Patterson
PROLOGUE
MADDIE DAVENPORT SAT ALONE IN THE front seat of the idling car. She fiddled with the radio, switching from pop to country to oldies before stabbing the dial and silencing it. Her restless fingers flew to her head and snagged a strand of her long, blond hair. She twirled it into a thick curl and held it there, eyeing the effect in the rearview mirror. So pretty. If only she had natural curls like her mother.
A frustrated sigh escaped her lips and she let the curl drop. She glanced out the front windshield and in the darkness could just make out the sign hanging in front of her mom’s small office: DAVENPORT & TOWSON REALTY. Her mom had said she’d only be a minute, but that had been ten minutes ago. And did Maddie really expect anything less? She’d been late all eleven years of her life—for dance classes, track meets, birthday parties, and even school. Why would today be any different? Why would today be the day her mom decided to put her daughter ahead of her job?
Maddie pursed her lips and glanced toward the office. It was a look of pure attitude, one her mother would have withered under.
Usually she could deal with this—the lateness, the waiting around, her constant placement as first runner-up in her mom’s poor attempt to balance work and family. But not today. Not after the day she’d had at school. Not after Chelsea Park had stood up during lunch and called her Saint Maddie in front of the whole cafeteria.
It had spread like pink eye, and by last period everyone had started crossing themselves in front of her. Had started bowing their heads and offering mock prayers to her.
Saint Maddie. The Patron Saint of crybabies. Of teacher’s pets. Of prudes. The list had grown as the day had gone on.
Maddie looked at herself in the rearview mirror again. The insult burned deep within her. She tried to smile but couldn’t keep it up. She grimaced and dropped her head, burying it in her hands. Two years of braces wasted. She’d never have anything to be happy about again. And all because she hadn’t kissed Tommy Meyers during that stupid game of spin the bottle.
Why hadn’t she just gone with it? The thought crossed her mind for about the hundredth time.
His Funyuns breath, for starters.
She could barely stand sitting six feet away from him. The thought of locking lips—she had almost gagged when the bottle had come to a stop, its neck pointing right at her.
And that’s how she’d escaped. She’d leaped to her feet, her hand pressed to her mouth as she hurried out of the basement, out of Chelsea’s house, and made her way home early.
It wasn’t the smoothest of exits, but it had worked. She’d escaped. Still, Maddie had known that there’d be hell to pay Monday morning, but she hadn’t cared—until, of course, she had.
Saint Maddie.
It wasn’t even that bad. At least, it could have been so much worse. But it wasn’t the name that got under Maddie’s skin. It was the way Chelsea said it. The way her lips curled up into a sly smirk. That twinkle of mischief and malice that winked from the mean girl’s narrowed eyes.
Maddie twisted in her seat and crossed her arms. She needed a plan. Something to combat the good-girl lies. A way to dirty up her image.
But what? She sighed.
Why did Chelsea have to be such a bitch?
A satisfied smirk lifted Maddie’s lips.
Bitch.
She thought it again and again. See. She could be bad. But she’d need more than a few curse words to undo Chelsea’s handiwork.
She flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror. She imagined herself with a nose ring. Or maybe an eyebrow piercing. That’d be edgy. But you had to have your parents’ permission, which her mom would never go for. Could she pass for eighteen? Maddie sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips.
Not a chance in hell.
Maybe makeup.
Maddie reached into the back and pulled her mom’s purse onto her lap. She dug through it, picking out a tube of lipstick. She ran it across her lips, then smacked them like she’d seen
her mom do.
It was bold. But would it be enough?
No. Chelsea already wore lip gloss and blush to school. Maddie couldn’t copy her. That’d be worse than being the good girl.
Defeated, Maddie tossed the lipstick back into her mom’s purse. They’d call her Saint Maddie for the rest of her life.
She opened the glove compartment and looked for a pack of gum. But instead of gum, Maddie’s eyes fell on something else. Something that just might do the trick. She reached in and took hold of the pack, giving it a shake. Its contents rattled softly inside. She opened it. Eight cigarettes looked back at her. She unsheathed one of the thin tubes and held it gingerly, like a sleeping cobra she’d been dared to kiss.
This could work.
Without thinking, Maddie pressed the cigarette lighter down into the dashboard and waited, shooting nervous glances up at the office. She’d seen her mom smoke hundreds of these, but always on the sly. She knew her mom would be furious if she found her eleven-year-old daughter with a cigarette in her mouth.
The lighter popped with a dull thwack. It was now or never.
Maddie’s hands shook as she held the cigarette to her lips and pressed the hot lighter to its tip. A soft sizzle snaked through the air. The first tinges of burning tobacco tickled Maddie’s nose. She couldn’t wait to see Chelsea’s face. Chelsea would have to eat all those good-girl lies.
The warm smoke seeped from the cigarette. It filled her mouth with a tangy, ashy flavor. Maddie inhaled slowly and felt it stream down her throat. She could feel her chest swelling as the smoke pooled in her lungs, as it sparked inside her. It actually wasn’t that bad.
Maddie took a deeper breath. More smoke poured in. Too much smoke. It caught in the back of her throat. It scratched at her insides. Her lungs rebelled. They seized up and shriveled, sending the smoke right back the way it’d come.
A grizzled cough tore through Maddie, involuntary and gruesome.
She coughed again. She couldn’t stop. She coughed and coughed and coughed. Her throat grew raw. She gasped for air, but that only made it worse. With the next cough a bit of bile leaped up into the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and prayed for it to be over.
This had been a terrible idea.
Still coughing, Maddie opened the car door and jumped out. She flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it, doing a little dance as she waved her arms around and tried to air out her shirt.
She hopped back in the car and rummaged through her mom’s purse again, pulling out a little perfume bottle. She sprayed it around the inside of the car and on her clothes. She even put a few spritzes in her hair.
She sniffed.
Yes, she could smell the perfume, but underneath its overpowering fruitiness, the smoke lingered. And it smelled awful. She opened the glove compartment and tossed the cigarette pack back in as she rooted around for the gum. But it wasn’t there. She checked her breath and started to panic. What had she been thinking? On top of being Saint Maddie at school, she was going to be grounded-for-life at home.
She looked up at her mom’s office and saw a flicker of light. She said a silent prayer and kissed her freedom good-bye.
And then a violent explosion blew the office windows out into the night.
Maddie’s head banged hard against the seat. Her vision went white and then black as she felt the world crashing down around her.
ONE
“EARTH TO MADDIE,” A VOICE CRACKED.
Maddie jerked, the reins snapping in her limp hands. Underneath her, the horse picked up its head and snorted but kept trotting smoothly along the path.
She’d been daydreaming again. Or rather, she’d had a daymare. The same one that always haunted her. She took a deep breath and filled her lungs with fresh mountain air. She tried to shake off the bad feeling.
“Hellooo.” The voice broke into her thoughts again.
This time Maddie swung her eyes around to meet those of the girl riding beside her. Maddie barely managed to stifle a laugh as her best friend, Chelsea Park, jostled uncomfortably in her saddle, almost falling off.
“When you invited me on this camping trip,” Chelsea said in a strained voice, her teeth gritted the entire time, “I thought it’d be like a hiking-through-the-woods kind of thing.”
“Are you really telling me you’d rather be walking up this mountain right now?”
“Well, no.” Chelsea stiffened as her horse stepped around a rock in the path. “But my chances of breaking my neck are a lot smaller when I’m on my own two feet.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Maddie promised, “as long as you keep those feet in your stirrups.”
A panicked look crossed Chelsea’s face and she jammed her feet into the stirrups as far as they’d go. Maddie couldn’t keep her giggles back this time. It felt good to laugh, especially at her best friend, who rarely lost her cool.
“It’s not funny.” Chelsea tried, and failed, to keep a straight face as she jostled around atop her horse.
“You look like you’re constipated.” Maddie giggled some more.
“I do not.”
Chelsea shot up in her saddle, her back ramrod straight.
“You kinda do.” And Maddie mimicked her best friend’s face, gritting her teeth and pursing her lips tight like she’d just taken a bite out of a lemon.
“Stop that.” Chelsea swatted at Maddie, completely forgetting she was on top of a horse. She wobbled in her saddle again, but this time Maddie reached out and grabbed her.
“Relax,” Maddie said. “The horse can feel when you’re uncomfortable.”
Chelsea’s fingernails dug into Maddie’s arm as she pushed herself back up on her horse. She took a deep breath, like she was about to meditate or something, and then slowly let go of Maddie. The horse continued walking along underneath her, and she didn’t falter this time.
“I think I’ve got it,” Chelsea whispered, afraid to upset the fine balance she’d found with her horse. A few strides later and she seemed marginally more comfortable in her saddle.
“Who are you trying to impress anyways?” Maddie asked.
“I thought that was obvious,” Chelsea eyed Maddie conspiratorially. “But the real question is who you should be worried about impressing.”
Maddie’s cheeks flushed pink as she shook her head and looked down at the ground.
“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed our hot mountain guide,” Chelsea pressed on.
A nervous snort erupted from Maddie’s lips, and she almost fell off her horse. She flipped her eyes up to the front of their group and got a good look at the guide with his blond hair and tan skin. His bright blue eyes.
“He’s kinda hot, isn’t he?” Maddie confessed.
“Scorchin’,” Chelsea replied.
Maddie had to roll her eyes at that one.
“Well, he’s all yours.”
“Oh, no,” Chelsea shooed the words right back at Maddie. “He’s not my type at all. You’re gonna have to take this one.”
Maddie hesitated. She didn’t usually go after the guy. That was Chelsea’s area of expertise. Maddie had never even had a boyfriend, though she’d had her first kiss. And it hadn’t been at a party or with Tommy Meyers and his Funyuns breath, though she couldn’t say that it had been much better.
But this could be fun. It wasn’t like she’d ever see their guide after this week. It could be nice to look and maybe even flirt a little. She was sixteen, after all, and entitled to a little crush here and there.
What had he said his name was? Maddie tried to remember, but when he’d introduced himself she’d been too busy gawking at his perfect, one-cheeked dimple.
Carl or maybe Calvin. Maddie tried to recall it.
“Caleb.” Maddie said it out loud, snapping her fingers in delight as she remembered. A nervous excitement bubbled up in her stomach. Her face flushed again, warming her all over.
“This little camping trip just got a lot more exciting,” Chelsea trilled, he
r eyes cutting mischievously to Maddie. “So here’s what we’re going to do—”
As Maddie listened to Chelsea unfurl her master plan, an uneasiness crept in and replaced her excitement. What had she just agreed to? Sure, Maddie had talked to boys. But what did she really know about flirting with them? Only that she wasn’t very good at it.
All of a sudden her slender legs itched in their stirrups. They longed to pound against the dirt trail, to get away from Chelsea’s sly gaze, the glimmers of her mean-girl past shining through. Maddie could run up this path in a flash. And the altitude training would be great for her. Her cross-country coach wanted her up to speed by July.
But why was Maddie thinking about training right now? This was supposed to be a vacation. Was Maddie really so afraid of talking to a boy?
“How about I just go up and talk to him?” Maddie offered, interrupting Chelsea’s elaborate plans of late-night encounters beside the campfire.
“I guess that could work, too.” Chelsea seemed a little deflated.
“I’ll just go now then,” Maddie said, effortlessly urging her horse forward.
“I’ll be right behind—” Chelsea cut off as she tried, and failed, to mimic Maddie’s easy moves. She lost her balance again and nearly slipped off her horse. “On second thought, I’ll stay back here. I’m gonna need a detailed report, though. I’m talking every syllable and hair flip. Don’t you dare forget a single thing.”
“I won’t.” Maddie laughed at Chelsea’s super-serious approach to all things boy. “Try not to break your neck while I’m gone.”
And Maddie pulled in front of her best friend.
Up ahead she saw her father sidling his horse toward another with a woman riding it. Maddie’s breath caught in her lungs. Her face flushed red with a painful heat. She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again. Her vision blurred in the bright morning light and then focused on the woman.
For a second, she’d seen her mother. But, of course, that couldn’t be. How could her mind still trick her like that? She hadn’t seen her mother in five years.
Maddie blinked the tears out of her eyes. It was only Mrs. Towson—Kris, Maddie corrected herself. Even out here in the wild, stripped of her usual pantsuit and three-inch heels, the woman looked all business with her short hair dyed blond, like some kind of wannabe politician.